


All The Sand and The Waves

by miniaturemice



Category: Rumble Fish-S.E Hinton
Genre: Angst, Child Neglect, Colour blindness, Death, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniaturemice/pseuds/miniaturemice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What made Motorcycle Boy that way? One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Sand and The Waves

_"One, two, three, four._

___Take me away to January,_

_I'm done with this year._

_I'm tired of everyone here,_

_I just need some time alone._

_Before I'm ready to come back home,_

_There's gotta be something else out there for me,_

_I could feel it in my heart_

_The day I started to dream._

_There's more than this Midwestern town_

_I can't let this place keep me down._

_Take me away I need the sand and the waves, the sunset,_

_And let's not forget those warm Autumn days."_

_-Take Me Away by Chase Coy(Dear Juliet)_

* * *

"Baby, look at that," a young woman pointed out the river under the rickety old bridge.

"It's going where we'll be headed soon," her voice was wistful as she continued.  A boy sat beside her, unconcerned. He sat,pulling weeds out of the wood and his voice was indifferent as he asked , "Where's that, Mummy?" The look on his face plainly said that he really couldn't care less but she laughed. It was a pretty, tinkling sound.

"To Cali, baby! To the sand and the waves!"

"What about Daddy and Russy?" he questioned innocently.

His mother was startled but then laughed aloud again before shrugging her shoulders. She picked him up and swung him to and fro whilst skipping towards the river.

"Oh darling, you've go' dirt all over your shirt," she tsk-ed and took off her son's shirt and dunked it in the river before handing it back to him. The boy wore his shirt back again and shivered. The water had thoroughly soaked the shirt through but he wasn't going to tell his pretty mother yet. She wouldn't care anyway, he knew. She would simply just shrug her shoulders and tousle his hair. And he would much rather have her this way; smiling and laughing. Times like these were hard to come by.

The next day was fun as he and his mother skipped about and picked flowers for Cali. She described how when they arrived, everybody would rejoice and they would have to toss flowers,she said. They needed lots and lots of pretty flowers to throw. Her voice was tight with elation as she described her delusions. The waves would be so blue and the sand so soft and it would sparkle like tiny diamonds in the sun. They would live in a big house like at home and it would have lots and lots of flowers.

Lots and lots of smiling people and happy people and lots of fun. And they would be _together_.

The day after, they stayed in the woods. The boy was okay with that, he was with his mummy and that was all that mattered. Night was a different thing however, the air was cold; colder than he was used to. He cried, his tears marking a path on his dirt-encrusted cheeks. His mother held him close but her body heat was not enough to warm the boy. Late into the night, he was still sniffling and she was still tired, leaning back against the tree. As he sobbed again, a great heaving sob ,his mother abruptly stood up. He fell off her lap in a heap. Raising his head, he saw her stricken expression. As though something was calling her and she heard it calling; screaming for her.

She took off suddenly, running towards some great unknown. Further in, deeper into the woods. The boy screamed , frightened and alone. Eventually, he stopped and huddled closer to the fire. The flames licked the air hungrily, black and white with sparks of gray, it was all the same to him. He could not see color. He was "color-blind" they said.

"She'll come back," he thought desperately. "She'll come back." As the hours passed, the sky changed from dark to light, he grew less sure and increasingly scared. The light did nothing to help banish his fears away.

"Mummy," he whimpered as strange men found him hiding behind some bushes. "Mummy," he whispered again and his mother's voice whispered like a ghost from the past, not from just yesterday , "To the sand and the waves!"

Never had the boy felt so alone in his life before...and to his surprise he found solace in it. The strange emptiness and detachment appealed to him and he liked being on the outside more and more as he grew up. Not needing someone, something, anything felt good. But one day, years later, as he held his brother close, he felt a sense of deja vu and his mother's voice whispered again, rusty and aged.

"What a funny situation," he said. "I wonder what I'm doing here, holding my half-dead brother, surrounded by bricks and cement and rats."

Anything to not remember,anything to forget.

And he did, smiling as he did so, days later, with a bullet barreled through his chest and his brother screaming the world away for him. But he didn't care, he didn't need anyone else.

And no one else needed him.


End file.
